Broken Faith - Inside the Word of Faith Fellowship, One of America's Most Dangerous Cults - Mitch Weiss Page 0,18

of the televangelist movement. Oral Roberts had opened his Christian university there ten years before. His television ministry brought Pentecostalism—which promoted dramatic worship, faith healings, and “praying in tongues”—to the American mainstream. Like the Reverend Billy Graham, Roberts called his television specials and live events “crusades.”

“Brother Hagin,” as he was called by his followers, preached the “prosperity gospel.” His philosophy: find a Bible verse that applies to your personal desire, and repeat it at high volume, over and over. Pray loud enough, and believe long enough, and God will give you what you want. Brother Hagin told his followers that faithful prayers—and generous tithes to church leaders—are paid back on this side of heaven with financial riches, health, and sobriety. It is a powerful, simple, and uniquely American blend of capitalism, fundamentalism, and magical thinking that continues to be preached by televangelists like Joel Osteen, Creflo Dollar, and Joyce Meyer.

Hagin’s Bible school in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, was the cutting edge of the fundamentalist Charismatic Movement. Sam studied hard, and Jane did, too. Rhema’s program required students to listen to taped lectures of Hagin’s philosophy and method. Jane listened. She learned about the different kinds of prayer, and how to use each one. She took notes. She began to form her own ideas about Jesus and the power of prayer, concepts that would later define her ministry.

Hagin’s prosperity gospel was presented together with traditional Pentecostal practices like speaking in tongues, prophecy, and faith healing. Like any good fundamentalist, she combed the Bible to prove her points, just in case anyone questioned her beliefs. The Bible was God’s Word to mankind, the ultimate truth. If the Bible says so, it cannot be questioned.

She didn’t know it then, but Jane was preparing herself for a life in a Pentecostal pulpit, a place where the shy, plain girl from Forest City would find real power.

When Sam graduated from Rhema, he formed Sam Whaley Ministries, Inc., and joined a worldwide “revival circuit.” The family crisscrossed the United States, England, Sweden, Germany, and Brazil. Sam preached to small groups in tiny churches, or large gatherings under tents pitched in the middle of fields.

At first Jane spoke only to introduce her husband, but in time her role expanded. Jane found that she enjoyed being in the pulpit, and the crowds were gratifyingly responsive. She loved telling people, especially disempowered women, how she had “received the call of God” in her life.

But she was torn. Sam was the pastor, not Jane. But more and more, she believed that of the two of them, she should be the one, the leader. She knew that time would eventually come.

In 1979, Sam and Jane Whaley formed Word of Faith Fellowship, and began holding services in a former steak house outside Rutherfordton, North Carolina. They chose “Word of Faith” because Sam felt God gave him that name. And “Fellowship”? Sam just liked the word.

Soon after opening, Sam was offered a job at Rhema as the dean of missions, a great opportunity. They were in on the ground floor of a worldwide movement. Rhema was growing more influential in Christian circles every day. They placed their new church in the hands of local pastors, including one of Jane’s family members. They came back to preach from time to time, but their lives were centered in Tulsa.

They bought a house and Sam held an administrative post and taught at the Bible school, but his wife grew restless. She tried to fit in. She hobnobbed with Sam at Kenneth Hagin’s house, but she felt the Hagins didn’t like her. And there was something else bothering her: the wives of high-profile televangelists were creating their own ministries. They flew into Tulsa in private jets, dressed in fur coats, flashed big diamond rings, and held seminars. They were paid generous “honorariums” for their work.

Whaley wanted to be like them.

“They had entourages and got thousands [of dollars] in honoraria for speaking,” said Sheri Nolan, who attended Rhema in the early 1980s. Jane went to the after-parties when the seminars wound up, but the glossy women shunned her.

“She didn’t have the right clothes and didn’t sound like them. She had this hick accent and bad teeth. She felt like they made fun of her,” Nolan recalled.

Envious, and believing she had more to offer, Whaley began holding prayer meetings in her friends’ homes. And they started spreading the word about this charismatic woman who had the “gift.” So many began showing up, she rented a former car dealership that had